Red and White Roses
by Luthien Saralonde
Summary: Haldir realizes that he is in love with his friend and fellow warden's sister, but can he convince her to love him back? My second attempt at a story, please no flames. Constructive criticism will be welcomed with open arms. ON HIATUS!
1. Chapter 1

**A.N/ **Here is my second attempt at a story, after the first one was a total disaster and consequently deleted. Please, no flames, but constructive criticism would be wonderful! Or just a review...please?! Hannon le, mellyn nin! (Thank you, my friends!)

Disclaimer: I own nothing published or even thought of by the great Professor Tolkien. Vanafindel and Apsenniel are mine though. This goes for any other chapters and stories.

"Ai! Apsenniel, wait for me!" a tall, handsome blonde said, hurrying over towards an elleth standing with a small group of females. 

"I am not going anywhere, you orc!" she laughed, hugging her brother. "How were the borders? Did anything exciting happen? Or was it dull?" 

Ruffling her plain golden locks, he answered, "With the two brothers of Haldir there, it was anything _but_ uneventful." 

"I should have known," she smiled. "I am happy you are back, Vanafindon. Very happy." 

"As I am happy to be back, small one. Oh, and by the way, Haldir is coming for dinner." 

"What! And just when were you planning on telling me?" she shrieked. 

"Well, I told you now, did I not?" he shrugged. 

"When is he going to arrive?" she growled. 

"One hour." 

"Labo vi Orodruin! Garich i dhôll goll o orch!" 

"I am sorry! Ah! Do not strike me, petty female!" 

"I am not petty, it is you who is at fault! How dare you think you can just prance right in and tell me to expect a guest in an hour, the time it takes to prepare everything, much less cook and serve! I cannot do this! You should have been named Empty headed, not Vanafindel! Go live with the Men." 

"Oh, now that wounded me, miunthel!" He received no answer in reply.

A knock sounded on the door as she had just completed setting the table and laying out the dinner they were to have that night. "Go get it," she said tersely, smoothing out the silver of her gown. 

"Alright, alright, no need to snap," her brother muttered. 

Apsenniel was about to reply, but bit back her retort as Haldir stepped over the threshold. "Marchwarden," she said, going up to curtsy to him. "I hope this day finds you well." 

"Aye, it does, my lady," he answered, inclining his head and smiling. 

"I am afraid the dinner is not the best I can do, for my brother here gave me such short notice of your arrival," she said by way of explanation, shooting a venomous glare at him. 

"That is alright, I do not mind," he chuckled, as she seated him. "Hannon le." 

"Of course, Marchwarden." She brushed past her brother without even sparing him a second glance. 

"Will you not be joining us?" he asked, when he saw only two places were set. "Or do you mean to make your brother starve?" 

"Though that notion would be very welcome, I am afraid I must decline. I had a very late lunch. And, I need to finish the dessert as well. Please, eat. I am sure you both must be famished after having naught but lembas and dried food for the past three weeks." 

They needed no encouragement. Soon, they were on to second, and then third, helpings, of everything that was offered on the table. Silently, she cleared away the now empty plates and brought over the dessert, a seemingly mile-high cake topped with delicious, fresh whipped cream, and candied violets. 

"Wonderful!" Haldir cried in delight when he saw it. "This is my favorite!"

"Really?" she said in surprise. "I should make it more often then, and send it over to you." 

She cut him and her brother enormous slices, refilled their wine glasses, and then left them to themselves as she began to wash the dishes. Between the two, they demolished half of it in seemingly thirty seconds, and another quarter in less time than it took to blink an eye. 

Both pushed their chairs back with a satisfied sigh, and Haldir muttered, "Apsenniel, if I do not bond with you right now, I do not know what I will do. To live without your food, your cake...utter torture!"

"But if you eat as much as you did tonight, soon you will be too fat to leave your bed! You are better off without it," she returned, whisking the plate away with the remnants of the towering behemoth, even as his eyes still followed it hungrily. 

"That is something I am willing to give up," was his response. 

"Oh, I am positive that that is the case," she snorted. 

"Truly, it is," he returned. "I do not believe I shall ever take dinner at my talan again."

"Marchwarden, you are free to dine with us whenever you wish. If you request something you would rather eat, I could prepare it for you," she said to him as she refilled his water goblet again, whisking away the now empty wine glass. 

"Really?"

Vanafindel laughed at the eager expression on his face. "Marchwarden, you look as if you were just presented with the title of Lord of Lothlórien!"

"Nay, I could never be successful in that office. My only duty is to the service and safety of the fine elves in this Wood."

"Spoken like a true warrior and Marchwarden, mellon," Vanafindel muttered, gazing longingly at the wine bottle just out of reach. "Miunthel nín, more beautiful and kind than even Lúthien herself, could I please have that Dorwinion back? Please?"

"Are you mad? Of course you may not!" Apsenniel said, batting his hand away. "You have imbibed far too much already. Marchwarden," she said, turning towards him. "You may as well spend the night, seeing as you are in hardly a good condition to be walking back to your talan. You may have our parents' room. It has been empty for far too long. Allow me a few minutes to make up the bed and prepare it for you." With that, she walked off. 

Once he was sure she was out of earshot, Vanafindel muttered, "Never lets anyone get the chance to say no, that one. You would be better off not bonding with her at all."

"I believe I shall manage, if only she continues to cook the way she did tonight," came Haldir's strained response. 

Vanafindel looked over to where the Marchwarden's stare was directed at, and found him gazing yearningly at the cake. "You might as well take it," he said. "She does not care much for sweet items. Odd elleth, that one."

Haldir's eyes went comically wide when his younger friend said this, and muttered, "Odd indeed!"

Apsenniel returned to find the two arguing over the last piece of the monstrous white cake as if they were elflings again. 

"This is half," Vanafindel was saying, making a motion with his fork over the tip of the cake. "That part is yours, Haldir."

"Nay, mellon, you misunderstand. _This_ is half." And he took the plate and fork, and happily dug out a large piece, placing it reverently into his mouth. 

"Fine, eat like a Man. I care not," he harrumphed, crossing his arms over his chest like a petulant child. "Didn't want the cake anyway." He jerked in surprise as his sister slapped him on the back of the head, and mumbled, "Morgoth's balls, what was that for?"

"Stop acting like a child, Vanafindel, or I may have to speak to the Marchwarden about having you removed from the Guard!" she reprimanded.

"You would never!" he gasped.

"Watch me," she smirked. 

As she turned to go into her bedroom, Vanafindel said, "Do not go in there, Apsenniel, I am warning you now."

"And why should I not?"

"Because...oh never mind. You stubborn elleth, you will not listen to me anyway. Go on then."

Warily, she pushed open her door, and stepped in, but shrieked out in rage and shock as a bucket of ice cold water poured down onto her head. "Vanafindel!You son of an orc! What have you done!" Whirling around, she advanced on him, pale grey eyes flashing dangerously. 

"Unfortunately, Marchwarden, I feel I must suddenly take my leave of you. Good night!" Vanafindel said hurriedly, and leapt out of his chair, but not before she launched herself at him and sent them both tumbling to the ground. They scuffled for a few minutes, during which her hands whirred around, striking any part of his body she could reach. "Ai, Elbereth!" he cried out. 

Two large hands descended on them and pulled them both apart, Apsenniel's feet dangling a few inches above the floor. "Vanafindon, I sympathize with your sister. Apsenniel, you would make a fine warrior," Haldir said before letting them go. "Now, I am feeling quite tired. If you could please show me to where I will be staying tonight, I would very much appreciate it."

Blushing, the sopping wet elleth said, "Of course, Marchwarden. Follow me."

As he lay on the soft bed, Haldir could not help but think of the way her dress had molded to her form as the water soaked into the fabric. Then he rolled over, and let images of her cake take over his mind. Soon after, he was asleep.

Translations:

Apsenniel-merciful, translation of Jane

Vanafindon-fair haired, translation of Aurelius

Labo vi orodruin-go jump in Mt. Doom

Garich i dholl goll o Orch-go kiss an orc

Miunthel/miunthel nin-sister, my sister

Hannon le-thank you

Lembas-waybread of the elves, can fill the stomach of a grown man with just one bite.

Talan-platform or house in the trees where the elves live

Dorwinion-strongest wine

elleth-female elf

Morgoth-Dark lord in the First Age, before Rise of Sauron

Elbereth-wife of Manwe and queen of the stars


	2. Chapter 2

**A.N/ **So sorry this took so long! I was so busy with school and fretting over third quarter report cards that I haven't had much time to write, so this probably isn't as good as the first.

Disclaimer: See chapter one.

READ AND REVIEW!! The more I get, the faster I'll update. Please?!

The smell of bread baking in the oven was what roused Haldir from a restful slumber. He stretched, hard muscles going taut beneath marble white skin, and pushed himself up so that he was sitting on the bed, tousled hair forming a halo of moon silver blonde over his shoulders and around his face. He could hear Vanafindon move with the pace of a snail into the kitchen area, and so he ambled out as well, feeling none the worse for the wear, unlike his counterpart. "A fine morn this is, no?" he smirked, seeing the dark rings beneath the young warden's eyes.

Vanafindon glared as best he could at him, though the effect was ruined by his squinting, and replied, "If I could see it and ignore the pounding in my head at the same time, then yes it is indeed."

"What did I tell you, brother? You had far too much to drink last night, and look where it got you! You do this every time you return from your post. And to think you would have learned after all those times, but no! You have to be pigheaded," Apsenniel said, going up to him with a pot of tea and a cup in her hands.

Haldir was quick to note that this time, she was completely dry. A strained expression flitted briefly across his face as memories of last night resurfaced in his mind, but then he shoved them aside, and forced himself to think of something, _anything_, other than the way her dress clung to her skin, and nearly went transparent.

Vanafindon sighed in relief after he drained his first cup of the tea she brewed, and was able to open his blue eyes farther, the green color receding from his features.

"Better? Then you can start the dishes once breakfast has finished," her voice interrupted his musings on nothing.

"But Penny," he whined, calling her by her childhood nickname.

"No! You deserve it after what you did last night. I always clean up after you and your friends with no complaint, the least you could do is wash dishes your sister and Marchwarden have no further need or use of."

"She does have you there," Haldir agreed.

"Oh brilliant, even my friend and leader is against me on this one. I did warn her! She just went ahead and did exactly what I told her not to do."

"How did you even do that? There was hardly any time," she said, bending over the oven and inspecting the bread, before she shoved it back in.

"You were busy with dinner, so I decided I would put the bucket over," he grumbled. "You did deserve it, you know."

"And what was it that I supposedly did, pray tell?" she said, her hands settling on narrow hips.

"You hit me in front of Alassë. That merited the bucket of water, I think."

"Ah, but that is where you are wrong, dear brother. You never think," she smirked.

He opened his mouth to reply, and then closed it again. Instead, he plied himself with more tea.

Haldir snorted into his own mug, and then watched avidly as she set the bread down in front of him.

"Help yourself to as much as you want, Marchwarden," she said. "I have other things baking as well."

"Absolutely splendid, dear heart," he said happily. Taking up the long, polished silver knife in his strong, assured hands, he quickly and efficiently cut through the spongy, soft white loaf. Steam rose up from it, and he breathed in its fragrant, quiet aroma. His toes curled in delight as he set the first bite against his tongue, and sighed in near ecstasy. He glanced up suddenly, aware that a pair of searching grey eyes were trained on him.

"How do you find it, milord?" she questioned with a nervous waver in her otherwise strong voice.

"I find it well, very well. Thank you for asking," he said.

"Good then," she murmured, walking swiftly to the oven. "That is good." A slight tremor ran through her as she remembered those stormy eyes of his from last night as they gazed ever so solemnly into her own. She removed a tureen of porridge from the stove top, and doused the small fire underneath with a quick splash of cool water ladled from a large jar. Moving gracefully over towards them, she set it down on top of a thick, woolen hot plate. "Marchwarden, would you like any?"

Swallowing thickly, he downed the enormous mouthful of bread with a gulp of still-hot tea, winced as it scalded all the way down his throat, and then rasped, "If it please you, yes." He smiled when she gave a tinkling laugh, and then watched almost lustfully when she put a generous amount into his bowl. "Hannon le," he said eagerly, before he set his spoon into it.

"Miunthel nín, I do believe that you have some competition between you and your culinary delights," Vanafindon chuckled sarcastically.

"Oh shut up, will you? Neithadol!" she said, thoroughly exasperated with the golden haired male. "You are so immature..."

Haldir was hardly paying attention as he dug his spoon into the now half-empty bowl, but looked up at the last sentence his friend had said. "There is no competition between the two, for I know to whom my heart truly belongs..." but his words were cut off by a loud pounding on the door. "That would be my brothers," he sighed, gazing at the porridge and bread in remorse. "This will most likely have to go unfinished."

As Apsenniel opened the door, two large, yet lean elves burst in, nearly knocking her down in the process.

"Rúmil, Orophin!" Haldir said angrily. "Watch where you are going! You nearly ran into Lady Apsenniel!"

Ignoring him, the two said, "We have been looking everywhere for you! Where were you all this time?"

"Away from you, thankfully," he snorted, going back to his breakfast.

Grumbling, Orophin muttered, "Now that was not very nice at all, brother. You of all people..."

"That comment should be expected the most from," he finished.

"Is that any good?" Rúmil said, leaning over towards him.

Orophin pushed him to the side and said, "All you think about is your stomach. Morgoth's balls, and you are supposed to be my kin!"

Straightening her gown, Apsenniel stood straight and said sarcastically, "Mae govannen, it is a pleasure to meet you two as well. Please, let me know if I may get you anything."

"Actually yes, some of that bread would be wonder-ouch!" Rúmil began, but was cut off by Haldir slamming his hand down over the crown of his youngest brother's head.

"You are the rudest elf ever born! Why Naneth and Ada did not drown you in the Nimrodel when they got the chance is beyond me!" he exclaimed, ears burning crimson.

"I do not mind, Marchwarden. After all, my own brother does the same thing. That is one thing that we have in common, at least."

Looking over to her, he said, "You are right, Apsenniel. But I beg of you, let the bastard starve. He deserves it."

Smirking, she went over to the stove and served them anyway. "All this food must disappear somehow," she shrugged in explanation. "Vanafindon is too ill at the moment to do more than wash and dry dishes."

After the two took their first bites of her food, their eyes widened, and immediately they said together, "Goheno nín, Apsenniel. That was utterly rude of us."

Haldir looked at the two incredulously, and said, "If your food can teach them manners, then I wonder what else it can do?"

"Fill up hungry Marchwardens, that is what," she laughed, whisking away his empty bowl and replacing it with eggs, a slice of bread, fruit, and two strips of bacon. She placed a water goblet in front of him as well, and filled it near to the brim.

"If you are this good at cooking, it makes me wonder what else you are able to do," he said, taking a large sip.

"Nagging," Vanafindon said.

"Are not all females though?" was Orophin's muffled reply.

"This is just about it," she said, ignoring them. "My sewing is terrible, and my singing is worse than a deaf human's."

"You have no idea how true that is," her brother replied to the group.

They all burst into laughter, and Rúmil said, "It seems like you are speaking through experience, 'Findon."

"I am," he grimaced, making them roar in mirth again. He began to gather the plates and bowls up, but left the goblets in case they wanted more to drink.

"I beg your forgiveness, but I must leave. I was supposed to go and meet Faelwen at the river today to begin the laundry. Vanafindon, I will need your clothes, and Marchwarden, if you wish me to do yours as well..."

He blushed amidst the jeers of his brothers, and said, "No, hannon le, Apsenniel. I am fine."

Apsenniel was walking towards a secluded part of the river when she heard three female voices conversing together.

"...he stayed the night, too!" one exclaimed.

She moved silently over through the bushes for a closer look at who they were.

"No! You cannot be telling the truth, Miriel."

"I am," came her satisfied voice again. "I saw him go in yestereve, and not come out. Then, his brothers nearly pounded down the door this morning, and almost knocked over that scrawny elleth, Apsenniel, and Haldir emerged later, wearing his border patrol clothes."

"You do not like Apsenniel?" another, whom she recognized to be Malthenniel, questioned.

"Not an ounce! She does not even look like an elf, with her stringy yellow hair and twig figure!"

Cruel laughter followed.

Apsenniel looked down at herself, judging the plain brown work dress she was wearing, and, placing the heavy laundry basket down, measured her hips with her hands. They were very narrow indeed. Tears came to her eyes as more insults were hurled through the air, unaware that she was listening. Turning, she picked up her basket and fled, not stopping until she came to Lady Galadriel's Garden, whence upon she fell, weeping, to the ground amidst the roses' thorns.

Soft footsteps alerted her to another's presence, and a light hand on her shoulder drew her around. "Dear one, what troubles you?" Galadriel's low voice said.

"You know already, híril nín. The others...do they all think that?"

"Haldir certainly does not, and neither do his brothers. Vanafindon would die for you, were the situation ever to arise. And my husband and I do not, either. Hebo estel, little one. The world weeps for your pain. Those ellith do not even know you, and yet they make such assumptions about your character. You are much lovelier than they make you out to be."

"But it is true! I am a stick! I do not look like an elf, I look like an underfed human child!" she wailed.

"Hush, Apsenniel. You do not," was her firm response. "Do not let them get to you, for they will take you down, peg by peg until naught but your bones are left."

Standing up, she held out her hand, and lifted the trembling young female up. "Come. Let us walk to keep your mind from your suffering."

Sniffling, she nodded, and managed a weak smile. "I am coming."

She did not even notice the ellon they passed on the way through, but Haldir stopped, and looked after her red, tear streaked face in puzzlement, unsure of what to do.

Translations:

Hiril nin-my lady

Hedo estel-have hope

Goheno nin-my apologies, I beg your forgiveness

Alasse-Joy

Hannon le-thank you

Miunthel nin-my sister

Neithadol-wrong head, as close as I could get to asshole in Elvish

Naneth-mother

Ada-Father

ellith-female elves


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:**

**Okay, I know we really aren't supposed to have these on here, but this is important. I am suffering from the biggest case of writer's block ever, and have almost no drive whatsoever to continue writing at the moment. I do have half of chappie tres written, and it's several pages, but other than that nada. So if anyone could add some ideas, or even leave a review, that would be wonderful! Thanks a lot for the help!**

**-Luthien Saralonde**


	4. Chapter 4

**A.N./ Oh my goodness, I am so sorry I haven't updated in over two months! Things have been crazy, and I had the biggest case of Writer's Block. I don't know when I would have gotten this chapter out if it weren't for Rae Simmons, so I dedicate this chapter to her, in thanks for all the help she has given me. THANKS, RAE!! And I got the pagebreak to work! YES! Now I can go and fix up my other chapters. People, this has been viewed over 700 times, but I only have 9 reviews. This is really discouraging when you look at it! Please, please, PLEASE drop a line or ten! It really makes my day brighter when you do, and it helps me to write faster. Thanks! Also, I'm sure you have the translations for male and female elf down, so I'm not adding in a translation at the bottom.**

Disclaimer: You know the drill.

* * *

Haldir watched them go with a confused expression on his face. "Have I done something?" he thought wildly. "What is wrong with her?" At that moment, Vanafindon entered.

"Marchwarden, good day! Have you, perchance, seen my sister anywhere? I cannot find her. She was supposed to go to the stream to do laundry, but..." he let the rest of his sentence peter off into nothing.

Swallowing, Haldir said, "No, my friend, not at all."

* * *

The Lady looked up from the flower beds in which she was kneeling, an beckoned Apsenniel over. "Come, child. Do not weep, those females are too spiteful for their own good." Sensing her hesitation, she smiled and said, "Do not be afraid. You have may admirable qualities. You should not let what they say bother you."

"But my lady, why would they say it if it were not true?" she asked her.

"Perhaps they are jealous. You put many of our cooks to shame. True, you are not perfect, but who here in Arda is? The Marchwarden certainly is not."

At this, Apsenniel perked up. "He is not? Erm...what do you mean?"

"When he was training to be a warden, many centuries ago now, he was quite the arrogant youth. He was paired with an older ellon for his sparring partner."

At her pause to produce pruning clippers, the younger female said, "Who was the older elf?"

The Lady smiled to herself as she snipped off a few yellowed leaves. "My husband. Haldir tripped on his own two feet before he even got the sword fully out of the scabbard, and landed flat on his face. I do not think I have ever seen such a bloody nose as that! Needless to say, his brothers never let him forget, and when he gets in a mood, Celeborn "reminisces" about his younger days."

Silence reigned supreme for a few minutes before Apsenniel mumbled, "Thank you, I needed to hear that."

"Everyone fumbles at least once in their life, even me."

She noticed profound sadness in the Lady's far off azure gaze, knowing her thoughts were on her daughter.

* * *

Rúmil paced back and forth across the floor of his brother' talan, ignoring the amused looks he was sent by Orophin.

"Where could that blasted ellon be!" he finally stormed.

"Not here, brother," Orophin snorted.

"Oh haha, you think yourself so clever," he snapped.

"More clever than you at least. What has your leggings in a twist? Pray tell, I have all day," he said sarcastically.

"The fact that he said he would be here by noon, and it is already half past!"

"Why should you be worried about him being half an hour late when you are more so to any social function yourself?" Orophin snarked.

The door opened, and Haldir walked in. "I apologize for being late, but there was a matter concerning the rotations of the border guards with Lord Celeborn."

Rúmil's angry retort died on his lips. "Oh. Well, in that matter..."

"Shall we go?" Haldir interrupted, buckling on his long, curved sword and scabbard.

"I have only been waiting all day!"

Looking over to the smirking elf on the long, neutral colored couch, he said, "Ready to see your younger brother thoroughly trounced at the ranges?"

"As if I do not see that three times every week when not on patrol!"

"It's never hurt you before, why should it now?"

Grumbling, he pushed himself off the couch and said, "There is a first time for everything. I think I just might fade from sheer boredom!"

Laughing, they exited the spacious talan, teasing and clapping each other on the back.

* * *

Vanafindon walked through the woods of Lothlórien, singing faintly to himself. "A few minutes later he arrived at his destination, a small secluded clearing with a tall mallorn tree standing sentinel in the center." Scaling the branches swiftly, he settled himself in the cozy talan. Looking out the window and still humming the childhood tune, he ran long, dexterous fingers over the scratchings he and Apsenniel carved into the wood hundreds of years previously.

As the song came to an end, he murmured, "What have you gotten yourself into, Apsenniel?"

* * *

She ran through the trees as her brother uttered those words and dashed up the steps to the talan she shared with him, clattering into the entry hall.

"Damn," she hissed, realizing just how late it was. She hurried to the kitchen, and pulled out numerous pots and pans, and began to make a roast for dinner that night.

Halfway through the meal, she heard the door open and close. "Findon? Is that you?" she called out.

"No, Lady Apsenniel. I apologize for letting myself in, but I did knock," came Haldir's voice.

"Oh!"

Startled, she dropped the colander she was holding.

Haldir jumped at the unexpected noise, and hurried in to see if she was injured.

Both reached down at the same time to pick it up, heads and hands colliding.

"I am so sorry, Marchwarden!" she cried at the same time he gasped, "Please forgive me, Lady!"

Time seemed to come to a standstill around them as they gazed into each other's eyes.

Apsenniel felt as if she were drowning in his passionate, stormy grey-blue gaze, impossibly deep, they were as breathtaking as she imagined the sea to be. It seemed as if their faces were drawing closer together, until a burning smell began to issue from the stove.

"Oh no!" she cried. "I completely forgot! Marchwarden, you must excuse me."

She hurried over and lifted the roast from the stove, disregarding potholders in her haste to keep it from burning further.

"Owowowowow!" she yelped, dropping it on the counter top and waving her hands in the air.

"Lady Apsenniel, have you burned your hands badly?" Haldir asked, walking in long strides to her side.

"No, I am fine. But I thank you for your concern. You are much more considerate than Vanafindon at any rate." Apsenniel crossed over to the sink and ran cool water over her palms. "There," she said, "much better."

"All the same," he said, and took her hands in his rougher, and much larger, ones. Slowly, he turned each one in front of his face, inspecting the reddish skin for any blistering.

"Will I live?" she asked him softly.

"I am not sure. Perhaps we should move into an area with better lighting, so I may be able to give you a proper examination, and determine your fate, no?"

* * *

The air felt oddly close as Vanafindon walked up the last steps to the talan he shared with her sister, and with some trepidation, opened the door. Seeing no one in the kitchen, he moved on cat's feet towards the sitting room, and stopped dead in his tracks. Haldir's back was facing the doorway, and little could be seen of his sister except the top of her dirty blonde head. A low chuckling sound came from his Marchwarden, and as their heads moved closer together, he decided that he had seen enough.

"Ai! Get away from each other! That was enough to make even an orc ill."

* * *

Apsenniel had felt as though she were floating through the air when Haldir guided her into the sitting room, and sat down in front of her, pulling her hands into his lap. She had been positive he could hear her heart thudding away, especially since they were in such a close proximity.

"I do think you shall live," he said gravely, after a few minutes of close inspection to her palms.

"That is good. Who would there be to cook for you and Vanafindon? You two are hopeless in the kitchen," she breathed.

Haldir let out a low chuckle, and leaned closer, his full lips parted slightly.

Her eyes had just begun to flutter shut when she heard, "Ai! Get away from each other! That was enough to make an orc ill."

Apsenniel's eyes flew open, and she threw herself backward, making the chair skid a few inches in her haste to get away. Haldir himself looked thoroughly disgruntled, and ready to kill her brother on the spot.

Hanging her head, she muttered an excuse and hurriedly left the room.

* * *

Things had finally gone according to his wishes, that is, until her brother barged in and ruined everything! He had even held her hands! Haldir let himself think that she had been about to kiss him when she leaned forward, but that had been shattered when Vanafindon all but bellowed the sentence like an injured oliphaunt.

Swerving in his seat, he glared murderously at him. Any lesser elf, or one less foolhardy, would have been burnt to ashes from the intensity of Haldir's gaze, but Vanafindon just shrugged it off as if it were an everyday occurrence. And, knowing him, it probably was.

"Just what did you think you were doing?!" Haldir hissed through his teeth.

"Saving my sister from the horrible fate of having you kiss her, my friend," Vanafindon answered jauntily. Suddenly, he looked very serious, and about two decades older when he sat down next to him and said in a quiet tone, "What are your intentions with my younger sister?"

Stunned, Haldir say back and let his words tumble through his mind. "I-I am not sure," he finally murmured after a few minutes of silence. "I do know that I find her company to be extremely agreeable, and she is one of the most interesting ellith I have ever had the pleasure of conversing with, but other than that..." his words petered off into silence.

Standing up, Vanafindon did the only thing he could think of doing.

"Well, until then, my dear friend Haldir, you may not see her without a chaperone, such as myself, or one or more of your brothers, present. I shall not have her emotions toyed with. She is a very delicate creature, and sensitive to how others think of her. You do understand what I am attempting, and failing horribly might I add, to say?"

Haldir nodded his head dumbly. _Not see her without a chaperone? But...why?_ And yet, he did see the logic. Vanafindon simply did not want Haldir, or any other ellon for that matter, in such intimate settings with her unless he wished to court her.

"Very well then," he croaked. "I shall be on my way."

Vanafindon caught his arm before he could leave, and said, "I do believe my sister wished for you to dine with us tonight. After all, I am here now, so there is no reason for you to leave."

He nodded again, but was suddenly rooted to the spot as another thought flew through his mind. _What would she think when he walked through that door and into the kitchen?_

* * *

_Whew! I hope you like that! Drop a line!_


	5. Chapter 5

**A.N/ I am so sorry again! School has kept me incredibly busy, as well as cheerleading and musical rehearsal. I hope you like this! It took me forever to write. Again, thanks to my beta, Rae Simmons, without whom I would never have gotten this out, and to all you lovely reviewers. This story has been viewed 1,438 times-not like I'm counting. It just says so on the stats page. Heheheh...so here you go!**

**Hopefully, I'll get the next one out faster, though I'm not making any promises. Again, you already know the translations for male and female elf, so I'm not putting that up there. Manwe is the most powerful of the Valar, and is married to Elbereth, Queen of the Stars. Just in case you don't know that. **

**Disclaimer: See first chapter. -.-**

* * *

Tentatively, Haldir walked through the door after Vanafindon. Apsenniel was busy, getting everything set out on the table and filling tall goblets with water.

"Sister of mine, we have a guest. You might want to set an extra place, lest you want our dearly beloved Marchwarden to eat from the floor," Vanafindon remarked lightly, pushing Haldir in front of him.

"Wha-? Oh, y-y-yes, of course. Marchwarden, do have a seat. I shall have everything ready in a few moments..." she said, flushing from head to toe.

'Sweet Elbereth, she looks beautiful when she does that,' Haldir thought wistfully to himself. He gazed at her with calf eyes as she hurried around the kitchen, dodging offending counters and oddly placed chairs.

"Why it must be so cluttered in here, I do not know!" Apsenniel huffed furiously after stubbing her toe. Vanafindon started laughing. "Oh do shut up, _brother of mine_," she mocked. "Make yourself useful, would you, you great lump, and get the turkey out of the oven. The pie needs to go in next. No no, do not put it on the top, it needs to go on the bottom so it may bake properly!"

He turned his head to the side, cherry red from both the heat of the oven and bending over. "You are the cook here, you do it!" Vanafindon cried in exasperation. "Ai! My hair has caught fire!" A small tongue of flame was quickly extinguished from the end of a long blonde lock that had fallen over his shoulder and oh-so-innocently brushed the oven's bottom. Mournfully, he gazed at the melted and blackened mess that had once been over two inches longer. "Now I must cut it even more," he sighed.

Vanafindon's misfortune had served to eradicate for the time being all the tension in the room as Haldir and Apsenniel laughed at his expression of deepest loss. "Here is your bloody turkey. Happy?" he grumbled as he shoved it at her.

Grabbing it with a pair of potholders, Apsenniel brought it over to the table and placed it in the center upon a large cork hot plate. Of course, this also allowed Haldir a generous view of her neckline, as the dress had a lower one than she would normally wear. He froze, his mouth suddenly bone dry. This only worsened when she leaned down to set his place for him and accidentally brushed his shoulder.

"I apologize, Marchwarden. I did not mean to do so," she whispered, and hurried away.

When she left the room to fetch the mourning Vanafindon, he groaned and buried his head in his hands. "Oh, what am I to do now?" Haldir mumbled to himself over and over.

* * *

Dinner was a quiet affair on all parts. Vanafindon was sulking about his hair, and Haldir and Apsenniel were too embarrassed to say much to each other other than the ever-present please pass this dish and may I have that.

'Stupid, stupid, stupid!' Apsenniel mentally shouted. 'I let myself lose control like that! I honestly cannot believe myself. I acted like a wanton in the sitting room in front of an ellon who clearly does not think of me as anything other than a friend. You are an utter IDIOT! Why, of all things, would you even believe for one minute that he might fancy you?' She sighed and pushed the remaining turkey around her plate.

"Oh do stop being so dramatic," Vanafindon sighed. "I caught you two, and that is that."

"Ha, and you are the picture of gaiety. I think not!" she snapped back. "Moaning and groaning about two and a half inches of hair."

"For your information, dear sister," he spat, "it was three. Maybe even slightly more."

"Oh boohoo. Now go to your bedroom again and cry like an elfling."

Vanafindon decided that he would end the verbal argument by sticking his tongue out and flinging a roll across the table at her.

During the ensuing food fight/siblings' quarrel, Haldir calmly continued eating his dinner and buttering another roll from the bread basket in front of his dish. An enormous pat of butter suddenly found itself upended from its cozy spot on the butter dish in the middle of the table and splattered in a shocked Marchwarden's hair. Vanafindon had time only to say, "Oh bugger," before the action was returned.

"Mercy, Marchwarden! Have mercy!" he cried as the gravy found its way poured down his back.

Apsenniel could not stop laughing at this hilarious action, though inwardly she groaned at the amount of time it would take to wash out the stains from his over and under-tunics. Her own gown was a mess-crumbs were embedded in the lace work and beading along the neckline and sleeves, and part of the roast she had burned her hands on earlier removing from the oven had left a greasy mark where it had slid down the front and landed with a plop on the floor. The table in itself was a mess, with bits of salad and grated cheese decorating the plain white cloth. Dark splatters from the roast and turkey juices stained much of it, and a jug of water had been upturned, sending a waterfall down upon Haldir's lap.

"Both of you, stop right now! You are acting like silly elflings! I am surprised you even became wardens! You should have been minstrels instead with your antics," she said in an authoritative voice.

Stopping in mid-motion, Vanafindon and Haldir both had the sense to look mildly ashamed and embarrassed by their actions, but no more than that.

"You two will now help me clean this up, and then we shall have dessert once we are all washed and changed. Marchwarden, you have an enormous amount of butter smeared into your hair. It might take a while for all the greasiness to come out. I am sure that Vanafindon has an extra set of clothing for you."

"No need, Lady Apsenniel. I can go to my talan and get another set," he answered her quietly.

"I shall meet you down by the bath houses?" Vanafindon asked.

"Yes, you shall. Until then, get as far away from me as possible, else I be tempted to shove you down the stairs!" Haldir teased. Inwardly, Apsenniel swooned.

* * *

After they returned to the talan she shared with Vanafindon for dessert, hair dripping in braids down their backs, a solemn mood overtook them, leaving them with naught but pensive looks and the occasional frowns.

The soiled tablecloth had been removed, and another was put on in its place. Dessert plates were set out, goblets of sweet, strong Dorwinion were put down in front, linen napkins were folded and snuggled next to the bone white dishes, and small forks were laid down on top. The pie had finished baking by the time everything was ready, a pause made only to switch it to the top rack above the small charcoal fire contained in a snug ring below, all ensconced in metal.

Dousing the flame with a quick splash from the newly refilled water jug, Apsenniel lifted it out carefully and set it on a small hot plate in the center of the table.

"Marchwarden, would you like a piece? It is blueberry and peaches. I hope you like it," she half whispered.

"Yes, indeed. I would like a slice very much. Lady Apsenniel, how could I not like anything you make? Your cooking skills are beyond that of any elf in Lórien," Haldir muttered, stormy eyes cast downwards.

"Sister dear, I would like two, if you do not mind. I am still famished," Vanafindon called down the table with a wide smirk.

"You may have one, seeing as I wish to sample this myself, 'Findon," Apsenniel snapped back at him.

"Well fine, be that way," he humphed.

"Cross your arms all you wish. It will not change my mind."

"But Peeeeeenyyyy!" he whined.

"I said no! Stop acting like an elfling! You are much too old for such silly, mindless behavior."

"Who died and made you queen?" Vanafindon mumbled under his breath.

"It was a unanimous decision," Apsenniel said breezily as she lifted out a gooey slice and set it on Haldir's plate.

"Do you see what I have to live with day after day, Haldir? It is terrible, my friend, terrible!" he cried.

"Terrible for whom, might I ask?" she inquired innocently.

Glaring at her, he answered, "You very well know who, sister dearest."

"Oh please. Stop being so idiotic."

Haldir and Vanafindon both greedily watch a particularly sticky piece slide off the end of the serving utensil and plop in the middle of her plate.

"Go on and eat, and then you may have seconds."

They needed no encouragement. All too soon it seemed, the pie plate was empty and whisked away to its soapy home in the sink with all the other items used to prepare and eat dinner and dessert.

"Nightcap, my friend?" Vanafindon asked Haldir, waving another bottle of wine in the air as he tipsily made his way over to the table.

"I would never dream of not having one, especially when you keep Dorwinion as good as this. Tell me, where ever do you get the money to pay for so many?"

"It accumulates over the years, since you tend to live forever and all that lovely business," he said flippantly.

"If you have a hangover from the two and a half bottles you drank at dinner, I am showing you no mercy in the morning. Just to let you know."

"I think an ellon should deserve a reward after he comes back from two weeks of boredom at the Northern Fences and having to live with with you. Am I right, or am I right?" he questioned, looking towards the smirking Marchwarden.

"On pain of death, I will not answer to the last part of your eloquently stated sermon, but to the first part, I wholeheartedly agree, friend of mine."

"Besides, about the whole money thing." Vanafindon was starting to slur a bit as he poured a generous amount into both goblets. "Whenever there is a grand event, such as oh I do not know, mayhap festivals, and Apsenniel cooks, they give her a fair amount for her labor. Though I would not go so far as to call it that. More like popping things in and waiting for the oven to spit it back out several seconds later."

Haldir took note of his sarcastic-while-at-the-same-time-flippant nature as he continued to imbibe more of the strong alcohol.

By the time they were deprived of yet another bottle by Apsenniel, making it their third, and shooed out of the kitchen to the porch in the back, it was nearing eleven.

"What say you we go an' grab those brothrz o' yours an' play a roun'?" Vanafindon slurred heavily.

"I think you are too far gone to focus on anything. Besides, it is getting rather late, and seeing as you are no longer a fit chaperone, I must be taking my leave. I shall see you tomorrow morn."

"Fine then, be no funnnnnnn. Borin' Marchwardenen."

Laughing, he strode out of the talan and into the inky blackness of the night.

* * *

Apsenniel had watched him go with a sigh, and not a small pang of longing. "No, no, no! This will never do! Stop acting like a wanton!" she berated herself as he disappeared around a bend. "You have no feelings for him, and he for you!"

By the time she had gotten herself to believe this statement was true, it well past midnight, and she wasn't in the best of moods. Suddenly feeling drained, she ambled back into the bedroom she had occupied for the last several centuries and collapsed in a heap above the covers. Apsenniel had drifted off into a reverie in a matter of seconds.

* * *

In another mallorn, Haldir was having trouble sleeping. Nothing he did seemed to work. First, he tried counting orcs, then thinking of his favorite song. All that got him was some rapidly becoming annoying tune stuck in his head. Flopping over onto his belly, he let out a frustrated sigh. Clearing his mind came next. Nope, that didn't work either.

All he got from _that_ was a headache. Did elves even _get_ headaches?! GAH! Drinking from the wrong end of a cup-no, no, that was for hiccups; not even laying with his back flat against the floor and his feet propped up on the edge of the mattress worked!

Sighing, Haldir got up and went to heat of a small pot of milk on the stove top. His first attempt caused milk to boil over the edge and send up a putrid smelling smoke. The second time, he was more attentive. After transferring it to his favorite mug, he downed it in several large gulps. Unfortunately for him, luck was not on his side, and he ended up scalding his tongue and throat. Eyes smarting, he found the water jug and poured himself a glass, mumbling curses.

First, he nearly ruined it between him and Apsenniel! Then her blasted brother had to go and embarrass both of them further, and then she hardly says a word to him on the way out! Oh, sweet Elbereth, what had he done!

He had continued like this for over half an hour, pacing back and forth like a caged animal.

Tirade finally at an end, Haldir placed the now empty several times over glass into the sink and moved back into his bedroom. Due to any number of reasons, he had not been paying attention to his surroundings, and slammed his toes into the legs of a chair.

"Blast it all! Will this day never end?!" he hissed, hopping on on leg and cradling the injured foot in his hands.

He found it completely ironic that he was now able to go to sleep seconds before descending into the darkness.

* * *

Apsenniel blinked in the pre-dawn light, yawned, and then shuffled out of her bed to the water closet across the hall. Once her morning rituals were completed, she moved into the kitchen and began work on the breakfast she would share with her brother. After another hour or so, Vanafindon literally dragged himself into the room and sagged into his chair at the head of the small square table.

"I should have known," she sighed. "Do the dishes once you are finished. I need to get all the mending done, scrub the floors, wash the windows, and do your ironing as well as mine."

Squinting at her through his hangover, Vanafindon muttered, "Do I have to?"

"I told you I would show you no mercy if you became hungover. Now, hurry up and drink, and I shall put your breakfast out for you."

Grumbling none to pleasant words, he listened to Apsenniel's orders, and began the dishes once he had finished.

Meanwhile, she moved slowly about the talan, completing the chores one by one. First, she washed the windows, then moved onto the floor after everything was out of the way. As she was scrubbing a particularly difficult spot, Vanafindon entered with a full wicker basket.

"I found more mending," was all he said, dropping it into a chair shoved up against the far wall.

"Brilliant, just what I needed. More things to add to my list."

"How could you stand doing any of that?" he asked suddenly, already halfway out the door.

"Who said I can?" Apsenniel countered. Shrugging, she turned back to her work on the floor. "You never assist me unless I force you to, or you are too hungover to notice. Usually, it is a mixture of both."

"That could not be truer if Manwë himself said it," he grinned, and left the room.

"Big head," she muttered. Standing up to survey the floor, she noticed a small piece of crumpled paper lying in a corner across the room. "What? How come I never noticed that before?" she thought to herself. Curiosity stole over Apsenniel, and found herself almost involuntarily walking toward it. She watched her hand extend as if it were not a part of her, and pick up the parchment between thumb and forefinger, as if it could disintegrate at any moment. She straightened, and peeled it open.

"NO!"

* * *

Haldir had just sat down to a meager breakfast of butter scraped across thin slices of toast when someone burst through his door.

"Marchwarden! What do you mean by this?!" Apsenniel looked nearly mad with panic as she waved the note in front of his face.

"Calm down, Lady! Calm down! What is the meaning of what?" he asked her gently.

"My brother has just returned home! He cannot be sent out again! And it never says for how long!"

Prying the crumpled up bit from her death grip, he scanned it over, before placing it don on the table.

"I am not supposed to say anything about any of this to anyone whatsoever. I must have your word that you will not utter what you learn to a single soul. Am I clear?"

Perhaps it was the quiet way in which he spoke, or the calming look in his eyes, but she felt herself nodding.

"Very well then. The majority of the border guard has been put on active duty. The Lady has received intelligence that a large army of orcs and perhaps goblins is moving toward our city. We do not know how big it is, how long it will take them to get here, or if it will even happen. But for the next year or so, we will be having longer patrols, with more guards. The rotations will only switch out several each so many will be spending three months or more away from their families at a time. I shall be going as well, most likely for the entire period. Packages can be sent, as well as letters so the patrol will not become too homesick. Fear not, we each take care of one another. I promise you I will not let anything happen to your brother."

"You know as well as I that that is not possible, Marchwarden," she whispered, quivering with emotion.

"I shall do my utmost best, though. That, I can give you my word on."

"When do you leave?"

"Tomorrow at dawn. Will I see you there at the gates?" he asked.

"I would be nowhere else. But why tomorrow? And wouldn't the other families know?"

"I thank you, then. Please, write to me. I shall write to you as well. For each day that I, or your brother, are well, you shall receive something. Couriers will be going back and forth at intervals. We will both be posted on the eastern borders. Perhaps by twilight, you shall know. And the families will be told this evening. As to the other part of your question, as soon as possible would be best. So naturally, we go tomorrow."

"I understand now, I think. And if nothing comes?" She was almost too afraid to ask.

"Promise me you will not give up hope. You are strong, Apsenniel. Very strong. Never doubt that." Haldir leaned forward and planted a soft kiss against her brow.

* * *

The next morning at dawn, Apsenniel came forward with her brother toward the enormous group that was already accumulated outside the gates. She pulled her grey cloak closer about her as a chill autumn wind rustled quietly through the trees, but the coldness did not come from the outside. Instead, it was the blind terror that she felt as she raised a hand in final parting, and watched helplessly as they filed out in three lines of thousands, it seemed. Soon, she was the only one left.

She dragged her feet along as she walked back up the many steps to her talan, and only when she got the door closed behind her did she start to cry.

The day moved on as slowly as she moved herself, and by dusk, she had hardly gotten anything done at all, when she realized that someone had been knocking on her door for a few minutes already.

"Coming!" she called out, hurrying over. "I shall be right there."

The elf that greeted her looked slightly muddy, but the thing that interested her the most was the package he carried. "From the Marchwarden, Lady," he bowed, and left.

Apsenniel shut the door with shaking hands and sank down into a chair to open it. Inside were two leaves from a mallorn tree.

"Oh thank you, thank you!" she whispered repeatedly.

For Apsenniel, the days blended into weeks, and the weeks into months. All time seemed to cease its linear progression, and she moved through her talan, and indeed throughout the entire city, as if she were hardly there at all. She had no concept of time, and often found herself sleeping during the day and waking up only a half hour before the courier came with the mallorn leaves.

She had been leaving the gardens when a slender hand fell upon her shoulder.

"Apsenniel, you are not well," came the Lady's gentle voice.

She jumped, and spun around, her thin, wispy hair flying everywhere.

"My Lady! You startled me! I am very well, thank you," she gasped, fighting to regain her composure.

"Did not the Marchwarden tell you to never give up hope? And yet that is exactly what you have done. Why did you not listen?" The Lady looked down at her with a great amount of pity in her eyes.

Blushing, she looked away, finding it difficult to hold her gaze. "I did try, My Lady. I really did try. I am not strong enough. All I want is for them to come back home. All of them. Not just my brother."

"Soon," was all Galadriel said, before she disappeared down the bend in the narrow garden path.

Apsenniel was left puzzling over her last word. What did she mean by that? Would they be coming home soon? Or would it be the battle? Looking at the sky, she realized that she would be late for the courier if she did not run.

She reached her door just as he was striding up the stairs on the opposite side, huffing and puffing. "Thank you, my friend. I shall take that," she wheezed.

The courier bowed and said, "A letter from Warden Orophin, my lady," then he left.

"_A letter from Orophin?! Oh Eru, please let them be alright!" _she thought wildly, quickly tearing it open.

"_My dear Apsenniel,_

_Today we make ready for battle. The orcs have been seen near the mountains, and already they cover much ground. Haldir, the big head, is acting all pompous trying to get the posts organized and ready for whatever will come. Please do not take alarm from this, but he requested that I write something to reassure you, as he and your brother are too busy doing the work of many and refusing to share to stop and pluck two leaves from the tree we are living on at the moment and put it in a box to throw down to someone. Obviously, I disagree with him there, but unless I want to be sent home and miss all the fun, I am not allowed to say anything. Out loud, anyway. I can vent all I wish to you in this! Prepare yourself, for the next paragraph is going to be nothing but capitalizations. Ready? No? Good!_

_THAT BLASTED ASS IS THE MOST IMPOSSIBLE, INCORRIGIBLE ELLON I HAVE EVER HAD THE DISPLEASURE OF KNOWING, AND/OR BEING RELATED TO! ERU, I HAVE NO IDEA HOW VANAFINDON PUTS UP WITH HIM! OROPHIN, GO DO THIS! RÚMIL, DO THAT! POLISH YOUR SWORD AGAIN! I CANNOT SEE THAT STRAY EYEBROW HAIR THAT I KNOW I MUST GET RID OF! AND HE PREENS, OH HOW HE PREENS! HE TAKES AN HOUR THE BRAID HIS HAIR, LACE UP HIS BOOTS, PUT ON HIS SWORDS, LALALALALALALA! IF I DO NOT CLOBER HIM IN THE HEAD BEFORE THIS DEPLOYMENT IS OVER, I DO NOT KNOW WHAT I SHALL DO! _

_There, now that that is over-oh yes. I am thoroughly sick of eating naught but lembas day in and day out. Would you mind sending Rúmil and me a care package? Give nothing to that great oaf, I warn you. He shall never see the inside of it anyway, I would have already gotten to it by then. _

_I bid you farewell my friend and most talented cook! I have just been ordered to polish my sword for the twentieth time today. _

_-Orophin_

_Post script-Cake would be lovely!_

Apsenniel laughed in relief at the thought that they were alright and that Haldir was being his usual bossy self, but then the first paragraph floated across her vision, and she shuddered.

* * *

For the next several days, she got nothing, and no courier had been sent out but to bring back the severely injured or dead, or return with fresh recruits. Some of the ones that went knew only the barest basics of fighting, were entirely too young, or both. Each time she saw a white stretcher, she hurried over to peer at the blond head, and determine whether or not she knew them at all. On one occasion, she recognized her brother's friend as one of the dead, but other than that, she knew no one.

Then, one day her greatest fears were realized. Two stretchers, each with four elves carrying it, were rushed in with an ashen faced warden in both.

"Oh, Eru! Vanafindon!"


	6. Chapter 6

**A.N./ I know I haven't updated in a while, and I'm sooo sorry! Pneumonia's over with, and now I'm stuck with make up work. Many thanks to my beta Rae Simmons! Please review! And now, without further ado, I present to you chapter six!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. If you want proof, see chapter one. **

* * *

Apsenniel had refused to leave his side, and now, two days later, a healer was ushering her out to bathe and get some rest.

"But, Lord Nestor...my brother..." she pleaded.

The healer stood firm as the trees surrounding them.

"My Lady Apsenniel, you must get rest. He shall not be any different. I promise you. Will you go now?"

She raised her chin and blasted, "For over a week, I have been worried sick over him and another, and the worst has finally come to pass. I promised him that I would never leave his side until he was better-"

"He was unconscious! Lord Vanafindon never agreed to it. He did not even know you uttered it at all!" Nestor was beyond vexed. Honestly, who could understand ellith?! Bloody impossible, a whole different species. A whole different race!

"I do not go back on my promises, whether the person I made them to was conscious or not," she stated with quiet vehemence.

"That is it," Nestor decided. "I am taking you to the bath houses myself, and then I am dragging you by the tip of your pointed ear to your talan, where I shall sit on your chest until you either pass out from asphyxiation, or you decide to stop being stubborn and fall asleep."

All she could do was stare in open-mouthed shock.

"You would not!"

"Oh yes I would. And I shall."

Nestor threw a squirming Apsenniel over his shoulder and carried her throughout the city to the bath houses, where he unceremoniously dumped her on the ground.

"Go. Bathe. Now," Nestor ordered, pointing to the door.

"Fine." Apsenniel stomped away, dusting off the back of her gown. Her fury was so great, as well as the humiliation of being carried thus, that her grief was momentarily forgotten. As she stepped into the pool of comfortably warm water, a voice brought her out of her violently red thoughts.

"Ah, Lady Apsenniel. How nice of you to join us this morn."

Looking up, she saw a fair skinned elleth whose silvery blonde tresses were swirling in the clear blue waters around her shoulders.

"Lady Celephindes. I did not see you there. Forgive me, my mind was elsewhere."

"Forgiven." The elf-maid smiled lightly and said, "I have heard that your brother is among the severely injured. How does he fare?"

Sighing, Apsenniel replied, "Well enough, I suppose. I know that it could have been much, much worse, but I still wish that it had not happened at all."

"Everyone wishes that when such things happen to their beloved. But he is strong. After all, he serves almost directly under Lord Haldir. He has to be, for that position. Not to mention, Lord Haldir would murder him if he did not pull through. Lord Vanafindon will recover. It may take time, but this, I can promise you. Before the month is out, he shall be up and walking, and giving you grief once more."

"More so, to make up for lost time. I fear I shall never leave the kitchens once he is well enough..."

Sighing, Apsenniel allowed her head to fall back against a moss-covered rock, and settled deeper into the water.

"This is brilliant. Just brilliant. Exactly what I needed right now."

"I fail to discover any difference between sarcasm and genuine feeling."

"I apologise, I was just thinking aloud, Lady Celephindes."

"Ah."

Celephindes returned to musing over her own thoughts again, looking over at the yellow haired elf-maid only once or twice more before dragging herself out of the bathing pool.

"I shall see you soon, Lady Apsenniel. Until then, do take care."

"Thank you, and you as well, Lady Celephindes. Thank you for your kind words."

"Anything for a friend," she said, threw on her grey cloak over her matching gown, and strode off out the door.

Apsenniel was left staring after the tall, graceful elleth.

'I hardly speak with her, and yet she calls me friend? I have a friend!'

"Really now, Apsenniel," she reprimanded herself out loud. "You sound like a child. Stop this nonsense."

* * *

Once her hair was toweled off, her gown of two days was placed on, and her slippers(she hadn't changed into normal shoes before running off to be with her brother) were back on her feet, Apsenniel headed out of the bath house, and slammed into Nestor.

"Ai, Elbereth!" she gasped, waving her arms to regain her balance.

"I apologise. Are you alright?"

"Aye. I am fine. I am sorry if I managed to break any of your ribs, Lord Nestor."

Raising a brow, he said, "You would know if you had, my lady. Now, you are to go straight up to your talan and rest. Am I clear?"

"I can sleep just as easily in the chair I have been sleeping in for the past two days as I can in my own bed. You shall not change my mind on this. I promise you that, my lord."

Nestor narrowed his eyes at her, but finally relented.

"As you wish, my lady. Who am I to deny you?"

He followed her as she walked toward the Houses of Healing situated on the forest floor, as it was much easier for those severely wounded to be cared for, and received in time, than to have to be carried up flights and flights of stairs.

"Just do not throw me over your shoulder again any time soon, and we shall not have a quarrel between us."

The only response she received was a grunt.

"Wait. Were you out there the entire time?" she said slowly, spinning around to look at him.

"Yes. Why?"

"You did not even have the decency to allow me some privacy?" Apsenniel all but screeched.

"I was not in the bath house with you, if I recall. That is privacy, no?"

Obviously, Nestor just didn't understand that when a female needed her privacy, it meant to keep a fifty foot radius between the door and yourself. Of course, if you chose to stand farther back, there would be no complaints either.

Fuming, she ground out, "No, it is not. There was only a thin plank of wood keeping me separated from you. That. Is. Not. Privacy."

"Yes it is."

"No, it is not."

"Yes it is."

"No, it is _not_."

Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"_No!"_

"_YES!"  
_

"Ai! I shall not get in an argument like this with you."

"Only because you know I shall win, my lady."

"Nay, I shall. And, you sound like the brothers of Lord Haldir."

That shut him up. After a stilted, "I do not", he strode far ahead of her, opened the door, and shut himself inside of the house, leaving her to tug on the locked door, then search for another way in when he refused to answer.

* * *

So it was, when Lord Celeborn passed by, that he saw a wriggling rear attempting to disappear through a window, accompanied with kicking legs, swears, and an overturned bucket.

"Ahm...having fun?"

"EEP! Ai, Elbereth Gilthoniel!" Apsenniel cried out as she fell out of the narrow window.

"Ah. I was wondering whose leg those were," Celeborn stated as calmly as if they were talking about the mildness of the weather, even though it was always mild in Lothlórien.

"Lord Celeborn! I am so sorry! I did not mean..." Apsenniel stuttered, looking absolutely mortified. In fact, she wanted nothing more than for a hole to open up in the ground at her feet and swallow her up.

"My child, was there a reason for attempting to worm your way through the window of one of the Houses of Healing, or was it purely on a whim?" Wisely, he kept the grin attempting to flit its way across his face at bay until he could safely let it out at a very far distance. _Very far. _

"W-w-w-well, the d-door was locked, a-and I found the window slightly open, so..." Groaning, she buried her flaming face in her hands. "I was attempting to see my brother." There, she said it. No stuttering, no nothing. Well, maybe it was a little muffled...but he could hear. Oi.

Looking pensive, the elf lord said, "Your brother is Lord Vanafindon?"

"Aye, that is he."

"How is he faring?" Celeborn was genuinely curious, since Vanafindon was an excellent warden, and almost next-in-command, should anything happen to Haldir. Which, of course, would be a horrible thing in itself, for none could compare to that terribly devoted, cantankerous old elf who had worked over two thousand years to ensure the safety of Lórien's inhabitants.

"Well enough, I suppose, my lord. He is still unconscious, and that worries me, though Lord Nestor said he would be fine. After all, I do not see any serious injuries on him!" "Yet," she mumbled as an afterthought.

"Yet?" Celeborn asked with a smirk.

"I have not found an entirely plausible reason for doing so at the moment, but I shall endeavour to continue my search with the utmost urgency."

"Very well then. I shall leave you to worm your way through the window. My lady wife is calling for me. Should I erm...warn Lord Nestor?"

Apsenniel shook her head. "Nay, my lord. I heard he is fond of surprises."

He threw back his head and laughed, then winced at the particularly loud bellow Galadriel aimed at him telepathically. "I am already running two minutes late. I swear, they are perfectly fine until you marry them."

Apsenniel waited until he was farther away before she launched herself at the window again.

"Should have brought that pat of butter. My hips will not fit," she mumbled, squirming.

"Ai!" With a loud thump, she fell onto the floor. "Well!"

Nestor's head poked around the corner.

"YOU! How did you get in here?" As his grey eyes drifted toward the open window, she scurried around him and into her spot by Vanafindon's bed.

"What do you mean, Lord Nestor? I have never left this spot. You must be hallucinating from the long hours of caring for the wounded here."

The look of pure, angelic innocence she shot him grated on his nerves.

"You are so lucky I must change the bandages for Lord Iorthondir. His leg wound has reopened." Nestor started to move away, then stopped. "On second thought, my lady. I could use your assistance."

Apsenniel paled at the odd gleam in Nestor's deep grey eyes.

* * *

Haldir dragged himself at the forefront of the ragtag group of elves returning from the now-over battle. It had lasted for over a week, and he himself had hardly gotten over six hours of rest total-arrows, though they had found their mark with deadly accuracy immediately, were quickly spent, and until one could avoid missiles hurling through the air to replenish their quiver, hand to hand combat was the next step. After all, battles like this were not won by sitting in trees. Orcs could climb.

As they neared the gate on the north side of the city, Haldir felt his spirits lift considerably. Next to him, he noted Orophin stumbling along with his arm in a blood-stained sling.

"How fare you, brother?" he croaked.

Orophin blinked, shook himself out of the daze he was in, and replied, "Spiffy. You?"

"I shall be, once I bathe. After days of being in the same dirty, bloodied clothes, whether the gore be your own, or that of an orc, you tend to smell."

"Aye, and you smell worst out of all the rest."

Haldir looked at him incredulously. "I do not! I smell just as bad as any of you!" He mock-sniffed the air around Orophin and truly tried not to gag, but of course, it was simply too foul.

"I am very sure you are not a sweet pansy, or elanor, for that matter, my dear younger brother."

"Well, you smell like a rotting fish!"

"You smell like a rotting orc!"

Orophin stopped to think for a moment. "You smell like a rotting orc rubbed with a dead fish that was left to ferment out in the desert sun for three days. There."

Haldir blinked, then burst out laughing. "I hope the bath houses are empty. I do not wish for the noses of those still in Lórien to be offended."

"True, brother of mine. Very true. I wonder how Vanafindon fares."

"I wonder as well. Not to mention Lady Apsenniel. She must have been distraught."

"Well, I am sure she was! He was in a horrible way, though it could have been worse."

"How?" For some reason, Haldir was not entirely sure he wanted to know.

"He could have ended up looking like you."

Growling, Haldir said through clenched teeth, "If you had the use of two arms, I would punch you for that."

"I still have two legs."

"Good. Use them to run away." They passed through the opened gates to the sound of cheering a shouts of relief, mostly from the females.

"I am gladdened by this, brother, but one thing concerns me."

"Oh?" Orophin said. "And what would that be?"

"Apsenniel is nowhere in sight."

* * *

"Now, Apsenniel. Hold his leg still while I finish the stitches. He might feel some sensitivity there, even though I bathed the area liberally with the water I boiled athelas in. If he is in pain, soothe him as best you can. Distract him. Sing a song, tell a story, recite a poem, what ever it is you wish. But do not let go of that leg. Do you understand?" Nestor asked her in all seriousness.

"Yes, my lord. I understand. But...the sight of blood does not sit well with me..."

"As long as you do not pass out or vomit, it will be fine for now. Close your eyes. Just do not let go."

Not trusting herself to speak, she nodded instead.

As they moved into the next room, she risked a glance over at the bed. A pale-faced ellon lay there amid a swath of white, fluffy sheets and poofy pillows. His hair was long and a beautiful, rich blonde, and pooled behind his head, trickling over his shoulders like molten rivers of sunrise gold. Grey eyes stared out the window, but turned to look at them both when they entered.

"Lord Nestor. I see you have come to mend up my leg again. Unfortunately, it seems to be leaking a bit more."

"Really. How unfortunate. I shall have to have a look at that. This is my new assistant, Lady Apsenniel. She shall be keeping you company while I "mend" your leg for you again."

"Actually, I was commandeered. It is a great pleasure and honor to meet you, Lord Iorthondir. My brother has spoken very highly of you many times."

He gave her a piercing gaze. "You are the younger sister to Vanafindon, are you not? Aye, I can see the resemblance. Yes, he and I talk many a night on the borders when there is nothing to do. He is a very good friend of mine, and I would be very grieved if he were to pass on to the Halls of Mandos."

"I am gladdened to hear that. I would be most upset myself if that were to come to pass. Thank you, my lord." Apsenniel took her place, and knelt on the floor, her eyes fixed on the bandage gently being cut away by Nestor' large, capable hands. Even lying down, you could tell immediately that Iorthondir was immensely tall, like the old pines in Greenwood, or Fangorn.

'He must have some Vanyarin descent,' she marveled. He looked to be taller than Haldir, who was Telerin, like Lord Celeborn, and the majority of those in Lothlórien. She herself had a half Telerin mother, and a Telerin father. Her mother's father had been Noldorin, and one of the Calaquendi.

"Does this hurt you?" Nestor asked him, startling Apsenniel out of her thoughts.

"Nay, Lord Nestor. If it hurt me, my foot would be in your gut."

"Even so, I shall have Lady Apsenniel hold your leg steady. I know that you have been lying still for quite some time, and the muscles tend to twitch and spasm when that happens. It is the same when you sleep. Lady Apsenniel?" he gestured to where she was supposed to hold, and went to prepare the needle.

Slipping cool, white hands onto the pale skin of his calf, Apsenniel tried not to look at the gruesome gash that curved up to his thigh.

"Where else are you injured, if you do not mind me asking?" she said quietly.

"A sword wound to the chest, and an arrow in the arm. Naturally, out most talented Nestor the Noldo removed the poison in time, so there was no need to amputate. I am just unable to move it now for a week, to allow for tissue repairs and other such things like that."

"Ah." Apsenniel glanced over her shoulder to see if the dark-haired, broad-shouldered elf was ready yet. "Do you know if the Marchwarden is alright? Or any of his brothers?" She tried to make the question seem as if it were nothing to her other than passing concern, but she was certain his keen, penetrating eyes could see through her.

"No. No one was able to escape this battle physically unscathed. Nor mentally either, I presume. This was our worst yet, since the end of the First Age. Haldir remembers that one well. He was still a young warden then. As was I. You do not want the details of that one."

"Was it larger?" she asked fearfully.

"Aye."

His eyes followed the progress of the needle once the stitches were removed, his leg never once moving.

"Thank you for keeping my leg steady, Lady Apsenniel. You are very pleasant," he said, once it was re-bandaged.

She knew that he could have kept his leg still on his own, and did, but she accepted his thanks anyway.

"Of course, Lord Iorthondir. Anything to help."

Loud noises from outside reached their ears, causing some of the healthier patients to raise their heads.

"I do believe that the wardens have returned. And with them, Haldir is surely to be in the front," Iorthondir said, smiling. "Would that I were able to get out of this bed so I could greet them myself."

"I shall be back in but a moment, my lord. I must see to my brother."

"Of course. You need not stay with an old oaf like me. Go on."

"You are not an oaf, my lord, forgive me for saying. But thank you. If you need me, I will come."

She sank into the chair next to her brother's bed and held his hand. It was cold, and had been since he had been brought to the city for healing. She wished that he would wake up-his blank stare at the ceiling had her thinking thoughts of death, and of the one elf she had seen laying there with that horrible milky film over his light eyes. What had his name been? Ah yes, Pelilas. He was a merry one, with bright, shining eyes filled with mirth, and his cheeks apple red from the wind, and laughing all the time. The door opened, but Apsenniel was to deep in thought to notice.

"My lady," a deep, raspy voice said through the silence.

Apsenniel whirled around, unable to believe it.

"Haldir..." she breathed. "You are here!"

"Am I not?" Shutting the door behind himself, he said, "Orophin and Rúmil shall be along in but a moment. They are finishing up in the bath houses as we speak. How does Vanafindon fare?"

She shrugged. "Well enough, I suppose, my lord. He has been this way since he was brought." She wanted to be angry with him, oh yes, she did! Furious, even! But, seeing him there, so pale, weary, and utterly spent, not to mention haunted by the battle, she did not have the heart to torment him more than he had already seen and experienced on the fences.

"How badly are you injured?"

"I think I have a broken rib or eight, I do not know. Also, my side was opened up like a fish on the butcher block, with various cuts, scrapes, and bruises elsewhere. Orophin has a useless arm. It was broken in several places and completely mangled-it shall not have to be amputated though, the healers there made sure of it. It only happened today. One of the orcs was still alive. We did not know it until he, my brother, I mean, shouted. I feel guilty about it...if only I had seen...I could have..."

Apsenniel laid a hand on his arm, stopping him from continuing.

"Lord Haldir, you could not have prevented it from happening even if you tried. This was Fate. Everything happens for a reason. You do not think that Eru just left us to our own devices after the first elves awoke in Cuiviénen, do you? Of course not. And the Valar chose to stay with us until the end of Aman to aide us in whatever way they will. We are not alone in this, Haldir. Please. Confide in me whenever you feel the need. I will understand."

"How can you understand when you never had to watch the life leave the eyes of your best friend? You have never had to tell their family that they have left this world for the Halls of Mandos. You never saw the atrocities of war, be it in the treetops or on the battlefield. You cannot understand, Apsenniel!" he shouted.

The raw pain in his eyes pierced her to her core. She felt the swirling emotions whirl up inside her, and the itch foretelling the coming tears.

"Lord Haldir, I am sorry that you must experience this. You know I would do anything in my power to help take the pain away."

"Nothing can take the pain away, my lady. It becomes easier to bear, with time, of course. But it never goes away, no."

"Well, I can at least make you some pie."

"Blueberry, please?" he asked, looking up hopefully.

"Of course. All the blueberry pie your belly can hold. Vanafindon will be so sore about this if he wakes up," she smiled.

"When he wakes up. You said if."

"I know."

* * *

Celephindes was wandering amongst the roots of the great mellyrn trees near the center of the city. Stopping along a great mossy rock, she sat down, and pondered over the meeting she had with Lady Apsenniel. Sh genuinely liked her, she just never saw her enough to get to know her better. Of course, she could get directions to her talan, but something told her a visit like that would startle rather than reassure the timid creature.

'What to do, oh what to do?" she thought out loud wildly. A sound brought her out of her reverie.

"Lady Galadriel. Good morn." She stood up and curtsied.

"And to you, Lady Celephindes. Your mind is very busy, child."

Taking the initiative, she spoke. "Aye, my lady. It is very. Lady Apsenniel is an enigma to me. I cannot understand her. Why is she so timid? When I told her I was her friend, she looked as if she had fallen from the tip of the tallest mallorn so large was her surprise! Has she no trust in anyone?"

"Not so much for anyone she does not know. The kitchen staff adore her, and she them, but only because she has been around them for years and years. She is incredibly shy around our Marchwarden. Give it time. She will come around in the not so distant future."

Galadriel walked off, leaving Celephindes alone.

* * *

Haldir, meanwhile, had been forced by an irate Nestor to lay back on one of the squishy white beds while he healed his ribs, gash, and other injuries to the best of his ability. Apsenniel had been sent out of the Houses of Healing completely, since he had been flocked by the more severely injured of the just returning border guards, Orophin included. The other healers, Dúreth and Merethor, were there, scrambling from one room to another. Merethor was similar to Pelilas, always laughing and jesting with the patients to take their minds from the pain. He was of Noldorin descent as well, and so he had the traditional deep black hair with grey eyes.

Dúreth was a different story. She was quick and practical, smiled little, and joked less. It did not prevent her from talking, of course, for she would always tell the patients their diagnoses, but she just didn't partake in that activity much. By choice, of course. She really was quite pleasant once you got her to come out of her shell a little more.

As one of the Teleri, Dúreth had silvery blonde hair that went to her hips, always brushed perfectly and braided back just so to keep from getting into her eyes, which were a precise shade of slate grey-blue. She always thought those elves that were born with a variation of grey eyes, like that gorgeous grey-blue the Marchwarden had, or even the odd, smoky grey-brown she saw in Rivendell several times was much better than the usual grey, grey, grey, and more grey.

Rúmil, the least severely wounded of the three, and the most jolly, found himself under the care of Dúreth.

"Ahh...well hello there!" he said, attempting to keep the dismay off his face.

"Good day, Lord Rúmil. If you can, remove your tunics," Dúreth said in a brusque monotone.

"Erm...my what? Why?"

Raising a stern brow, she stated, "You are not to be getting any ideas into that thick skull of yours. I must look you over. If you are too injured to remove it, then I shall have to do it for you."

"Look me over, eh? Well then, I am in quite a bit of pain. Would you mind ah...doing the honors?"

He grinned over her shoulders at Orophin, who was staring at him incredulously.

"I cannot believe you," he mouthed, shaking his head.

"I did not wish to have to cut away this tunic. I shall do so at the seams so it may be repaired."

"Cut away, my lady," he said flippantly.

He steadfastly kept his gaze away from Orophin, who was trying wildly to grab his attention over Merethor's back. As Dúreth bent to get a small pair of silver scissors, Rúmil allowed his gaze to wander over her tall, willowy frame.

"It appears," she said, her voice muffled while she pulled the last of the fabric away, "that you have cracked several ribs. Not to mention, you have a good sized scrape along your hip and side. Is it painful?" she asked, prodding at the edges of red, irritated skin.

"It just happens to sting, but only when you poke it really really hard, just like that, Lady Dúreth. Nothing much at all though. No need to worry!"

"Sarcasm does not become you," she remarked dryly. "Trust you me."

"Ack! Get that needle out of my skin!"

"You are being such a child about all of this! Now, shut up, lest my needle slips, and you end up with it stuck in a not so pleasant place for either of us."

He gasped indignantly, but kept more still after that comment.

* * *

In the other room, an equally indignant Marchwarden was having his own gash sewn up.

"You best count your lucky stars that I do not know how to embroider, Marchwarden, otherwise you would find yourself with a lily stuck to your ribs!" Nestor warned.

"I have told you, my Lord Nestor, I. Am. Bloody. Fine!"

"Well, you are bloody, that is for certain. At least you had the decency to bathe. Though the smell could still be improved."

"So sorry for offending your olfactory senses in the aftermath of a week-long battle."

"You get more and more articulate the more irritated you become. Did you notice that, my friend? That was the most intelligent word I have heard out of your mouth all day."

Nestor avoided the death glare sent his way and continued his stitching.

"If you do not make that look good..."

"Is that a threat I hear?"

"Quite possibly. Ah! Watch that thing!" Haldir sent him a baleful grimace.

"Tsk tsk. You should have come to me right away on this. Not chatting with some timid elleth."

"Her brother was under my command. I felt responsible for at least giving her some reassurance. And she is definitely not timid."

"Whatever you say, Marchwarden."

"Yes, people tend to follow my orders."

"And patients tend to follow mine. Lay back, do not move, do not speak, and do not breathe. I need to get the athelas water and bandages."

"My favorite part. I get to dress up as my grandmother."

"Best not let her hear that," Nestor smirked.

"No, indeed!"

* * *

Apsenniel waited by her brother's side again, holding his cold, still hand and mulling over the thoughts in her head.

First, she goes and makes a fool of herself in front of Lord Haldir, all over a pot roast! Then, he almost kisses her, which, of course, she wouldn't have objected to, and lastly, her brother barges in and ruins everything between them. And now this?! Clearly, she was being punished by some Higher Power for some event in her life.

Apsenniel thought back to when she was an elfling. 'I remember that vase I broke. Naneth was in tears. Or, maybe it was the time when I stole the booklet Vanafindon had completed for his next lesson with his tutor and used it for my own stuffed bear...or maybe...'

She was pulled out of her useless mental ramblings at the feel of a slight squeeze on her hand.

"Oh, Vanafindon! You are awake!" she squealed.

"Aye, I am awake," he grumbled, screwing up his eyes. "Do not squeak so much!"

"I apologise. How do you feel? Does anything hurt? Are you dizzy? Light-headed? Sensitive to touch or sound?"

"How long have you been around Nestor for?" he asked, still looking extremely pale.

"You have utterly managed to avoid my questions, yet again. I have never left your side, other than the time Lord Nestor hauled me over his shoulder and carried me to the bath houses, and then locked the door on me, forcing me to crawl in through a window and back to this chair."

Vanafindon stared at her blankly. "I refuse to acknowledge that with anything...Actually, water would be nice, my sweetest sister in the entire blasted world. I am parched."

She scrambled to obey him. Grabbing the pitcher off the table on the other side of the small, white-walled room, she took up an earthenware goblet, filled it halfway, and held it against his lips.

"I thank you most profusely for that, dearest sister of mine. You are, by far, my favorite."

"I am your only sister, Vanafindon. And I thank the Valar every day that no one else is put through the same things you put me through."

He laughed quietly, and winced. "Oh really? Is that so? I had no idea I was really that bad."

"You are," she agreed. "Trust me, you are."

* * *

Translations:

Nestor-Healer

Celephindes-Silver haired woman

Iorthondir-Old pine

Pelilas-Fading leaf

Merethor-Joyous brother

Dureth-Somber one

* * *

_I hope you enjoyed this one as much as I enjoyed writing it! Please leave me reviews. It makes me feel a lot better. Thanks!_


	7. Chapter 7

**_A.N.: Okay, I know I really have no other explanation other than school, midterms, and second quarter report cards, so I'm not going to bother explaining. Many thnks to my beta, Rae Simmons, without whom I would never have gotten out so soon(yes, soon...I'm scared to think what might be late...). You rock! _**

**_Another note: Lady Celephindes is really my best friend/sister in the whole wide world of Middle Earth, Girly 411. Check out her profile!_**

Disclaimer: Do I really have to?

* * *

Haldir groaned as Nestor poked and prodded around the newly finished row of stitches in his arm.

"You are being such a child about all of this," the healer sighed, straightening and wiping his hands on a cloth.

"No more than anyone else would. That blasted hurts! Not to mention, you have been jabbing at it. Are you waiting to see if it will stand up and do tricks?"

Nestor snorted at the affronted look on the Marchwarden's face and moved around the room, gathering up equipment and depositing them in a large container to be brought into the back so he could sterilize it.

"Again, you are acting like a child."

"Am not," he pouted.

"Oh by the way," Nestor threw over his shoulder as he exited the room, "Lady Apsenniel is going to be coming in shortly to keep you company while I see to her brother. He woke up recently, you know."

"She is? I mean, he did?" Haldir stuttered a bit as he tried to get his thoughts back in order.

"Aye. In fact, she should be here...now," he said, smirking as she walked timidly into the room.

Apsenniel curtsied and murmured, "Lord Haldir," in a small voice. For some reason, she was incredibly nervous to be around him again.

"Apsenniel. I did not know he was awake until just moments ago. Forgive me, I would have said something sooner if I had but known..." he petered off when she gave him a stern look.

"You could have done no such thing. And besides, it was only a half hour ago. I just left his side but moments ago so Lord Nestor could take over for me. He is still not out of danger, I suppose you could say, for the next forty eight hours, due to the amount of trauma suffered. He just seems...so different. I think this battle has affected him more than any other he has ever experienced."

"This battle has affected all of us in ways the others have not. It was not one to be taken lightly. Many elves-brilliant ones too-lost their lives in these past seven days. I fear I shall never be rid of these horrible images that float before my mind every time I blink. You cannot understand..."

Haldir's eyes shone overbright with unshed tears. Slightly embarrassed, he cleared his throat and turned his head so that he was staring out the window.

Slowly, Apsenniel reached out her hand and grasped his tightly, attempting to convey all the comfort in that gesture she could not in words otherwise. She smiled when he squeezed back, and moved her thumb in light circles over the back of his hand, skimming over the large knuckles.

"I am sorry for losing my composure," he said gruffly after a while.

"You have every right to. Especially after what you experienced," she said firmly, turning his head to look at her.

"I am always going to be here for you, Haldir. Never forget that."

"I shall not, for fear of not getting my blueberry pie," he smirked.

"Naturally," she snorted. "Ellyn always think of their bellies."

He cocked his brow slightly, and pulled on her index finger.

"What makes you think that?"

"I happen to live with the proof," she said dryly.

"True... he does tend to eat a lot," he conceded.

Nestor walked in, and beckoned wordlessly for Apsenniel to follow him.

"Lord Nestor! Is everything alright?" she asked, dreading the answer.

"Please, Lady Apsenniel. Jut follow me. There is something I must say to you concerning your brother that cannot be said anywhere but in private."

Gulping, she followed him out of the room, feeling as if she were going to her own execution.

"Yes?" she said when they were in his office in the back.

"Vanafindon has a good chance of not regaining his complete range of abilities due to injuries of the spinal cord."

"What do you mean? He had feeling..."

"As I said, he suffered severe trauma, some blunt, some not. He might not do more than hobble, or walk very slowly. I would not be surprised if he was unable to walk altogether. He is hanging in the balance at the moment. We shall know more soon when we begin him on physical therapy. Also, he may have mental blocks detrimental to his health in addition. Depression can lead to a hopeless feeling in a situation, to the point where a person may not want to do anything to try to help the situation, as they feel nothing else can be done for them. I suggest lending an open and understanding ear whenever he wants to talk."

"Of course," she croaked, feeling utterly floored. "Does he know about this?"

"Yes. It was my duty to inform him," Nestor answered stoically.

"How did he take it?"

"As well as anyone in his position. I believe he knew in his heart what the diagnosis would be."

* * *

As she entered his room apprehensively, images from their childhood flashed before her eyes. She smiled over some, especially the time when he had fallen out of the lowest branches of a mallorn upon the very same elf who had just told her that her brother may never be able to defend the noble city of Lothlórien again.

"Vanafindon?" she called softly.

"Aye, I am here," came the muffled reply. "I suppose he told you, did he not?"

"Yes. I am so sorry. You must be crushed!" No longer able to stop the flow of tears, she succumbed to them at her brother's bedside.

Weak as he was, Vanafindon stayed up for another fifteen minutes before his eyes glazed over in deep reverie.

Apsenniel had no more wish to leave her brother than Haldir would be parted from his sword for any length of time, and kept a vigil for the next forty eight hours, until Nestor assured her he would be fine, and all but threw her out of the house.

She had no idea what to do when she finally meandered her way up to her talan, so Apsenniel began to bake. And bake. It was an automatic motion for her, and she came to her senses only when she realised there was no counter space left, and she had run out of ingredients. A gentle knock sounded on the door, startling her, and she hurried out of the kitchen to see who it was.

Shock registered plainly on her face when she saw it was Celephindes on the other side, and hurriedly ushered her in.

"Mmmmm, it smells simply divine! What have you been making?" Celephindes asked her as she was shown into the sitting room.

"Would everything count?" Apsenniel said sheepishly, shrugging her shoulders. "It is true. I have not stopped until just now, and only because I have both no space left to put anything, and I have run out of food altogether. Please, take some with you when you leave. I will not be able to eat all of it."

"Gladly. I have sampled your food before during festivals. It is simply scrumptious. Tell me, what else can you do?"

"Erm...this is really it, other than nag," she mumbled, going pink about the ears. "I cannot sew, my voice is terrible, I am passable with weaving, and the sight of blood disgusts me. So, I cook."

"Ah. I see." Celephindes nodded once, and looked over to the many plates and platters of food practically spilling over the counters. "I do believe I shall take enough to last several days, if you do not mind."

"Oh, not at all! I find I have not much of an appetite anyway. Please, take what you will."

Celephindes walked around, peering at the choices, then said, "I would like to have your permission to visit your brother. I have not had a true conversation with him, so I would like to get to know him a bit better. Of course, it all depends on his condition, and if he is willing to see anyone other than family at this time, so naturally I went to you..." She trailed off into uncertain silence, waiting for Apsenniel's answer.

"Aye, you may visit. He might be...churlish...but do not let that get to you. He is usually a bear after a long stint on the borders, and even more so when he is stuck in bed."

Celephindes gave an unladylike snort, then said, "Males are always idiots. You can never trust them to do anything correctly."

"I thoroughly agree," Apsenniel said smartly, then burst out laughing. Celephindes joined in, and it was several minutes before they were finally able to get a hold of themselves again.

"So...you really want to visit with my brother."

"Yes, I would very much indeed like to," came the reply.

"_My _brother."

"Yes..."

"Vanafindon. The bear. The block headed idiot?"

"Yes, although I would not go so far as to call him all those."

Apsenniel worked at getting the incredulous look off her face, then said, "Be my guest. I have already warned you, and can do no more to deter you from your decision, can I?"

"Definitely not. I do plan on seeing him, but I wanted to make sure it would be alright for me to first, before I went."

"If you insist...but do not say I did not warn you."

* * *

Vanafindon was reading a large tome when Nestor walked in.

"You have a guest, Lord Vanafindon."

"Tell Penny to bring me more pie next time she comes. This...substance you call food is simply disgusting."

"It is not Lady Apsenniel here to see you," he smirked. "And by the way, the Lady made the broth you detest so much specially for you and the others."

"Ah. I see," he said, paling a little.

Nestor disappeared then, and was replaced a few moments later by a silvery-blonde haired maiden.

Vanafindon felt his mouth go dry as she murmured, "Well met, my lord. I trust this day finds you well. I am Lady Celephindes, and friend to Lady Apsenniel."

* * *

Don't kill me! I know the chapter was short, it just wouldn't let me write more! I'm going to post the second part to this soon(er), hopefully. Review! Please?


	8. Chapter 8

**_A.N./ _**Please don't kill me! I know it's months overdue...and I really have no other excuse other than I blame my job, which I just recently had to quit so I can go back to school, not to mention all that end of the year stuff...so yeah...again, please don't kill me! I'm so sorry! I doubt any of my faithful, fantastical reviewers are even looking for this thing anymore...T_T Anywho. I just wanna give a shout out to my fantastic and amazing beta Rae Simmons, without whom this story never would move past chapter seven. Thank you Rae! And also thank you to Cloe, otherwise known as Girly 411, for hounding me to post the finished chapter. Love ya, and see you in school tomorrow, non-biological sis! Another thing...I'm so sorry for the chapter being this short. It's hardly over 1,500 words. The only thing is, it wouldn't let me write any more for it, so yeah. Blame my muse on that one. Anywho...on with the story! Finally...

* * *

Vanafindon gulped, his mouth gone dry. Oh dear...this was not at _all _what he had expected. It was supposed to be Apsenniel, for Valar's sake!

Composing himself again, he muttered, "Well met, my lady. I am pleased to hear that. It does my heart good to know my sister has finally been socializing more."

Celephindes nodded, sitting down in the chair by his bedside. "I do hope I have not disturbed you?"

"Nay, my lady. You have saved me from death by acute boredom." Ah, now the old bravado was back in place. Good.

She laughed, and what a sweet sound it was to his ears! He felt as if he could go on forever, gazing at her lovely features.

"Apsenniel warned me you are a bear after you come back from a stay at the borders. I hardly believe her, as you are quite erm...noble, shall we say. You have shown impeccable manners."

Rubbing the back of his neck ruefully, he answered, "Apsenniel is right. If it were not for the fact that you are very pretty, I would have snapped at you already." The compliment had been said with his usual mischievous twinkle in his eyes so as not to be taken seriously, but he knew in his heart of hearts that he had meant every word.

"By the way, how does my lovely sister fare? I have not seen her in some time."

"She is well enough, I suppose. Although, when I went to visit her earlier, she had baked everything in sight. Is that a common way for her to deal with stress?"

Vanafindon rolled his eyes. "Oh yes. Clearly, you have not seen her in one of her moods before. I never know whether I am walking in to a calm spring morning, or one of those winter storms on the Plains of Rohan."

Laughing, she said, "You cannot be serious."

"No, you are right. I under exaggerated immensely."

He found himself becoming more and more comfortable with this elleth. For some reason, being seen in such a pitiable state by one of the opposite gender other than his sister did not bother him like he thought it would.

* * *

When Haldir entered the talan shared by the brother and sister he had come to hold so dear, he was at first taken aback by all the food, it seemed, in the entire city heaped onto the counters and table in the kitchen.

"Erm...Apsenniel? Is there a reason why there is so much food in here?"

Apsenniel came out of the adjoining room, her cheeks flushed cherry red.

"Hahaha...there is an interesting story to go along with that..." she trailed off.

"I do have all day, you know." Haldir crossed his arms over his chest and winced.

"You must be more careful with yourself!" she cried. "Your ribs have hardly had a chance to start healing yet!"

Rolling his eyes, he mumbled, "You think I do not know that?"

Ignoring him, she went over to the counter and began removing covered dishes and holding them out for him to take.

"What are these for?"

"You cannot make anything for yourself, as you are utterly hopeless in the kitchen. Take them. I refuse to hear a word against it."

Giving her a strange look, Haldir remarked, "You are quite the hellion today, Apsenniel. What on Arda has gotten into you?"

"Nothing at all. How are your brothers?"

"They are well enough," he shrugged. "Still as grumpy as ever though."

"Not as bad as you...or Vanafindon, for that matter."

"Oh really? How is he, by the way? I should like to visit him later today, if he is receiving any."

"He is," Apsenniel said grimly. "He is currently in the company of Lady Celephindes. I am waiting for her to storm in, proclaiming his infinite faults to the high heavens at any moment."

"Then perhaps I shall go after dinner. Would that be best?"

"Mayhap. I know not anymore. Valar, I am not even sure of my own name!"

"It is Apsenniel," he said gently, smiling.

She returned his gesture, though her face was stained a bright crimson, and turned away quickly, busying herself with washing empty plates and bowls.

"Where did all these come from?" he asked, motioning towards the full sink.

"I took baskets down to the Houses of Healing...to the patients who were allowed to eat real food, that is."

"Ah. I am sure they enjoyed it very much, my lady. Manwë knows I do."

"Oh, stop it. It is just food, after all," she laughed, smacking his arm lightly with a soft dish towel.

"Aye, but it is really really _good_ food."

"Did I mention that all you seem to think about is food?"

Haldir pretended to look wounded. "Well, I simply cannot help it if I am eternally hungry."

She cocked a brow, and replied, "So that is what you are calling it now."

Without any warning, Haldir's lips came crashing down on hers as he swept her into a passionate embrace, his hands sliding through her hair in such a way it made her shiver in delight. Then, Apsenniel blinked and the daydream was gone. Alright, so maybe Haldir had come in for five minutes, and maybe they did chat for a bit, but that was where it all ended. The rest was pure elven fancy.

Apsenniel desperately wished for a drink, glanced around, and sighed at the mess she was going to have to clean up. Haldir had only taken a fraction of the amount she had hoped he would, leaving her to sort out the rest, and figure out what on Arda she would do with it. Yes, a nap was definitely in order...

* * *

Vanafindon sighed and stared out the window as he watched Celephindes' retreating back disappear into the approaching twilight. So far, his day had gone splendidly...until she left. Every time she spoke, her voice sent chills racing up and down his spine. Of course it couldn't last though. Eventually, she would need to return to her talan, and probably never realize the already-blossoming feelings he was beginning to have for her. There was a sudden tap on the door, stirring him out of his reverie.

"Come in," he called out, sighing as his pensive air was replaced by one of annoyance.

Nestor stepped through the door with a smirk on his wise, ageless face.

"So," he said. "Did you enjoy your time with Lady Celephindes?"

"Go stuff it, you old prune," he sighed, turning his head away. Not for the first time did he wish he could stand up and walk, and it wouldn't be the last, either.

"Your sister will not be returning to you tomorrow, or tonight. She just left my office."

"Oh?" Now Vanafindon was intrigued.

"Yes. She is going to be in the Lady's garden. Special request, apparently. I always thought that thing was there for punishment..."

"Why? Were you a naughty elfling too?" he smirked, earning a glare from the healer.

"That is none of your concern, Warden. She never gave me a reason why she was going to be working there, but she is, and that is all you need to know. Your dinner will be here in a half hour. Good evening." And with that, he left the room again as silently as he had come.

"Well, brilliant," Vanafindon sighed, settling down further into the sheets.

* * *

Apsenniel dug her trowel into the soft, fragrant earth, reveling in the feel of it beneath her fingers and between her toes. The Lady was right-she needed to get her mind off things. And quite frankly, sometimes she preferred the plants to the kitchen. Soft footfalls behind her announced someone's arrival, causing her to turn around and crane her neck, squinting in the waning afternoon sunlight.

"Lord Celeborn, how are you?" she asked, flushing red and jumping up to bob an awkward curtsy.

"I am well, Apsenniel. And you?"

"Very well, thank you."

"I see my Lady wife has recruited you to weed her garden," he smirked. "I shall not keep you from your duties any longer. Good day, and tell that brother of yours to get better."

"I shall my lord, thank you," she answered, curtsying again as he continued on his way.

Once Celeborn was out of sight, she dropped to her knees, absorbing herself in the task that lay ahead of her. Idly, the part of her mind that wasn't focusing on the greenery in front of her began to wander, dreaming up images of Haldir on the archery ranges, on the practice field wielding his sword, or just standing on one of the walkways high up in the trees, allowing the wind to flow through his hair. Apsenniel smiled faintly, and kept working, humming an off key lullaby.

* * *

Like I said, please dont kill me! Review...if you want...if anyone's still out there...T_T Lots of love and your very own review reply, as always, if you do! Pwease? Gosh, and I promised myself I wouldn't beg...oh well. Chapter nine is in the works, so it could take either days or months to get it out. Hopefully the former though...keep your eyes open!


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